


Treasure Box of Memories

by Aku_Maru



Series: McHanzo Week Collections [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bromance, Challenge Response, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, First Dates, Fluff, M/M, McHanzo Week, Platonic Relationships, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Romance, Suggested PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-16 01:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11243259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aku_Maru/pseuds/Aku_Maru
Summary: Snapshots of the couple created for McHanzo Week 2017. Showing off the love two people can have for each other.Day 1 — Morning/Night = Big Sky Country/Land of the Rising SunDay 2 — Canon Divergence/ AU = Criminal AllianceDay 3 — Undercover / Downtime = Kindred SpiritsDay 4 — Red / Blue = Poker Chips and EpoxyDay 5 — Traditional / Unorthodox = LibationsDay 6 — First Date / Domestic Life = Uncharted TerritoryDay 7 — The Beach / The Sea = Disarming





	1. Big Sky Country / Land of the Rising Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Thanks be to Blizzard and its conglomerate for allow us to play with these wonderful characters. All things Overwatch and recognizable as such belong to them. Should anything I write resemble canon in the future, I probably didn't do it but wish I had been paid for it.

**Big Sky Country/Land of the Rising Sun**

Sparks of the fire crackled as a log settled into the coals. The tiny lights drifted higher into the inky darkness of the sky. Carried higher by the easy breeze into the realm of the stars. Twinkling among the jewels of the sky, the sparks vanished. Those brief, intense specks of light were no comparison to the steady flickering of the pinpoints of light shining in the void. 

McCree stirred the fire and sent a shower of embers flying to their doom amid the spectacular backdrop of an unending sky. Nothing blocking the view for miles. Scrub brush, cactus, Joshua trees. Nothing a couple of men couldn’t overcome with ease. Cities were simply a mental construct to distract of the reality of the world when faced with a sky bigger than a man’s comprehension.

It was impossible to take in the entirety of the sight with one look. Even twisting and angling in every direction failed to bring the wondrous sky into focus. The all encompassing dome of azure blue and velvet black wrapped itself around the world, offering protection and mystery. The horizon stood as a temptation to more secrets than could ever be learned. A step forward always brought more questions. An endless game the sky played with the earthbound inhabitants. 

Tonight the watchful eye of the moon was winking close. The sleepy crescent of silver trying to keep the vigilant cowboy company. Jesse smiled and sent another surge of sparks to share the majesty of their eternal counter parts. How much longer would his own intense existence in this world last? When would he burn out among the stars he strived to reach every night? 

Jesse hoped never to learn the answer. From the never-ending sky he glanced back down to earth. Under the sun bleached red and gold serape slept his own piece of the heavens. An everlasting star missed by its fellows and held in wonder next to a heart that dared to be as boundless as the night sky.

[/\\][\/]

Grey predawn light gradually filled the world. In the distance the songbirds chirped and whistled with exuberance. Their songs filled the stillness of the early morning, bringing energy that few others felt. Dark shadows of tress silhouetted against the growing lightening of the sky hid the excited little creatures. Unseen they sang to the slow increase in white filling the horizon.

Tendrils of steam rose from the teacups to join the dissipating mists. A quiet moment in the soft light insistently rising in the east. Gradual and insistent. Ever present. Beautiful and blinding. Color returned to the world as slow as seconds ticking by an incessantly persistent clock. At first unnoticed then alarmingly quick while at the same time agonizingly slow. Time counted in seconds dragged on. Time counted in sunrises thrilled with anticipation.

An eternity passed while the sky gained in brightness. Every morning a different combination emerged. Golds and reds, and oranges and purples. Never knowing what to expect from the predawn lights. Streaks of clouds or clear brilliance? Never the same. Always a surprise. Ever amazing.

From the shadows in the distance an icon emerged. Large and imposing, Mt. Fuji struggled to rival the approaching visitor to the sky. Hanzo breathed deeply and cradled the teacup in his hand waiting patiently. Soon. 

Even when expected the burst of color from the horizon took the archer’s breath away. Today, a tiny blinking speck of liquid gold poked above the horizon. That small announcement quickly flared into a cascade of light, banishing the lingering mists and returning color to the world. Rays of shimmering white streamed through the clouds to touch the earth with warmth. Orange tinted trees and buildings cheerfully welcomed the sun to their world. Gentle red grinned on the horizon. The grey hesitancy of the predawn world burst into brilliant blue with a blink of an eye. 

Hanzo had never been ready for his world to explode with color and blanketed with warmth. It had been a cold existence wandering the world isolated and grieving. He had not been ready for the gradual influence of the man who would be the one to change his life. His own captured sun waved brightly as he meandered through the gardens to the shrine. This man had gradually involved Hanzo in the rest of the world. Incessantly brought more life into Hanzo’s world. Such a slow and unseen process that Hanzo was unprepared for the burst of love for the sun that threatened to consume him. And without fail his personal sun restored life to his world. Always unexpected. Always beautiful.


	2. Criminal Alliance

**Criminal Alliance**

“I don’t need your help,” Hanzo yelled as his palm connected with the sternum of the armored policeman. 

“Of course you don’t, darlin’. Though this would be a lot easier if you didn’t complain about it,” McCree grinned from under the brim of his cowboy hat before taking a steady breath. The gunslinger trusted his asian partner to keep the police off as he prepared his shots. The next breath released with six rapid bullets, dropping the current threat to the pavement. Shimada took advantage of the pause to grab McCree’s wrist, dragging him away from the scene.

Together they hurried to a safe house on the other side of the city. Dorado had always had a sense of lawlessness to it that McCree enjoyed. A tangle with the police hardly ranked high on the nightly news reports. Though McCree figured the deaths of three possibly four officers might be worth a headline. 

Hanzo was not so carefree about the ordeal. In fact the heir to the Shimada Clan was fuming. They were in one of Shimada’s cars. Sleek black with high-end leather seats. It wasn’t the first time McCree had sat in the back of one of these custom vehicles. Not even the first time he sat next to a furious Hanzo. But this time the older Shimada was scowling at him. “We were supposed to make contact with Los Muertos not start a fight with the police.” The long black hair fell into Hanzo’s face, still wild from their brief fight. McCree always thought the lengthy hair style to be beautiful if impractical and currently it detracted from the severity of young man’s countenance. Jesse shrugged and grinned. What could he do? Hanzo scowled and turned away. “Deadlock sent me a fool.”

“Now, darlin’ you know that ain’t true.” McCree removed a glove and tucked his bare hand into Hanzo’s. He felt a small squeeze as the archer returned the gesture despite the anger trying to maintain its hold on Hanzo’s face. “An occasional idiot, yes. But never a fool. I’m only here to watch your back. I don’t care what criminal alliance Deadlock and Shimada want. You’re just angry that your meeting with Los Muertos was compromised.”

“You do realize that Deadlock will kill you the moment they find out you don’t put their interests ahead of your own.” Hanzo’s gaze was pointed but less fearsome. 

Again Jesse shrugged and settled for brushing his thumb along the back of the light olive skin of his partner. “It’s Deadlock.” As if that explained everything. He could see part of the tattoo on his left arm from the angle it lay to hold hands with the archer. The winged skull and padlock of the vicious biker gang. 

The alliance with the Shimada Clan was new and tentative. Like any criminal organization they did not trust anyone other than their own. But together they could ship their illegal goods to whatever buyer came their way. To keep that alliance from spoiling they sent representatives serve with the other organization. Jesse did not have any responsibilities in managing Deadlock, but he was the best shot they had. He had been sent to the Shimadas. Deadlock figured that if anyone had a chance at shooting one of the Shimada ninjas should the whole deal go south, it would be McCree. 

Shimada, having placed a similarly highly skilled ninja with Deadlock, understood the gesture. He had assigned Jesse to his own son, Hanzo. It was both an honor for the ally and a way to contain the threat the gunslinger posed. By being with only one man, McCree would not be able to kill the entire ruling elite of the clan should Deadlock wish to back out of their agreement. Outwardly Deadlock’s plan held. Inwardly, McCree knew it had been a mistake to leave him alone with the heir to the Shimada Clan. 

Hanzo must be having similar thoughts as he twisted McCree’s arm enough to trace the Deadlock tattoo with his fingers. They both seemed fascinated by the other’s tattoos. So different as they were. From distrust to friendship. It had been a rough path, but one McCree would be willing to take again. Now neither knew where to take the next steps. Becoming anything more would hurt worse when the alliance fell apart. Both knew it would. These types of agreements would never last. One day the order to kill the other would come. At least as friends there was still a distance between them. One that kept trying to close.

A small frown started to form on Jesse’s face as his thoughts turned to the inevitable. He wiped it away with his gloved hand. “You know, Hanzo, starting that argument with the police was particularly stupid.”

“Bribes have their place, McCree. I was not going to play into their extortion. And they call us criminals,” Hanzo muttered as Jesse laughed heartily. Their hands gripped each other tightly. Whatever the next steps were, they were taking them together.


	3. Kindred Spirits

**Kindred Spirits**

New years celebrations surrounded the ragtag collection of Overwatch Recall agents. The album in progress from Lucio was blaring from his impromptu D.J. stand. Hana and Lena were making up new dance moves among the older former soldiers. Reinhardt’s boisterous laughter overpowered the music often. Flashing lights of every color filled the room. The joyous clamor and free flowing drinks encouraged everyone to toss their cares away. 

Hanzo could barely summon a smile when faced with cheerful calls to join them. Politely he refused. Kept a hold of his cup and watched from a distance. No matter how many months he had spent with them, Hanzo was not the type of person to enjoy these chaotic scenes. Life had made him a dour person. At least he could be glad that his playboy of a brother could still party without a care in the world. 

On the dance floor the over the top cowboy was teaching anyone who would listen how to line dance. Grinning and laughing among the others, McCree could steal the show. His hat always visible in the small crowd of friends. It made a comforting point of reference for Hanzo. His reluctant smile tugged at his lips as he recalled the events of the past year. He had not expected his life to be utterly destroyed and rebuilt in such a short space of time. But at least he had firm ground to stand on to make sense of it all. All because of the persistent nudging of a certain cowboy.

Needing a moment from the ruckus, Hanzo escaped to an isolated balcony overlooking the ocean. Dimly he could hear the party rage on. Strangely he could feel contentment growing in him at the thought of spending another year among these people. 

“Ah! Hanzo!,” Loud and brusque, McCree brought a piece of the celebrations outside. “There you are. Didn’t want you to miss the fireworks display. Everyone is gathering to the north side of the base. Apparently one of the towns is setting off New Year’s fireworks and we will have an excellent view.”

“Sounds impressive. But I’m content here. Don’t let me keep you from enjoying the celebrations.”

“Nonsense.” McCree grinned and tipped his hat back to better show off his grin. “Knew you would say that so,” suddenly a bottle of aged Kentucky Bourbon was thrust into Hanzo’s face. “Here, promised you a drink once. Think now is a good a time as any.” Deep honey-brown liquid swirled in the squat bottle. Critically Hanzo read the label and was pleasantly surprised to see that McCree had indeed gone through the extra effort to obtain an extraordinary liquor. 

When Hanzo looked back at the cowboy, he found two glasses set up on the railing. The archer obliged by pouring the bourbon. In the distance he hear their friends calling out a loud count down. Jesse raised his glass expectantly. Hanzo chuckled and glanced towards the sounds. “5… 4… 3…” He poised his glass next to McCree’s. “2.. 1.. Happy New Year!”

“Happy New Year,” McCree repeated as their glasses clinked together.

“And to many more to come,” Hanzo added, listening to the echoes of Auld Lang Syne in the distance. Friends. What an odd thought. Hanzo did not think he had ever had friends before. It was a wonderful realization. Together they sipped the bourbon and watched the colors of fireworks sparkle on the waves below. There was nothing more Hanzo could want right now, than the knowledge that he truly had found friends and family that would give their lives for him. And that he would unwaveringly give his life for in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know romantic relationships reign surpreme in the McHanzo world. But I think platonic relationships do not get the justice they deserve. There is still a deep love between them without delving into the sexual.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and I hope to continue to satisfy your interests.


	4. Poker Chips and Epoxy

**Poker Chips and Epoxy**

“Guess we’ll do this the old fashion way,” McCree’s voice rumbled from where he rifled through the couch cushions of the rec-room furniture. Hanzo rolled his eyes and waited impatiently. McCree finally gave up the search and turned to the expectant archer. “Got a coin on you?”

An exasperated sigh exploded from Hanzo before he could control it. “Really? Currency has been purely electronic for decades and you are asking for a coin?”

“Well yeah. Gotta do it properly.” The shit-eating grin the cowboy managed was impressive. “But I suppose we could improvise.” McCree continued his search around the room while Hanzo leaned against the door waiting. It would be a long night.

“You do know that we can set up a 50/50 randomizer on any of our computers,” Hanzo explained as he realized what McCree wanted to do.

“I told you, we have to do this properly,” Jesse insisted. He turned around bearing two circles, coinlike in size and shape. Perhaps a little bigger. And brightly colored red and blue.

Hanzo pinched the bridge of his nose at the absurdity of the situation. “Poker chips?”

McCree grinned. “Improvised.”

“We could have had this dilemma solved long ago—“

“Didn’t I say, I wanted to do this properly? Now for some glue.” The broad shouldered cowboy brushed pasted Hanzo in the doorway, leaving the archer to trail behind him. They poked their head in a couple of workrooms and finally McCree found a substance that satisfied his goal. Hanzo waited. Why he was humoring the man was beyond him, but he had to admit this little adventure was entertaining.

“I do not understand why you insist on this practice. There are multiple other ways to solve this.”

“Yes, but this is the best.”

“Only you would say that.”

“It would be a lot simpler if you had coins.”

“I told you, electronic currency has made them obsolete save for the commemorative coins in people’s collections. And I do not collect coins.” Hanzo was ready for this game to be over. “Why don’t you carry coins? Since they seem to be so important to you.”

“Dirt poor,” McCree shrugged. Hanzo nodded. The cowboy had a point. The man had spent the better part of six years running from one bounty hunt to the next with hardly any cash to his name. Hanzo had at least had the benefit of maintaining secure unrestricted off shore accounts. 

“You know you could have written on either side of one chip. It would have made the whole process much quicker.”

“Don’t have a marker.” McCree completely ignored the fact that now that they were in the workroom there were at least five different writing utensils in reach. But then so was the industrial strength glue the cowboy had pulled from Winston’s collection.

“Fine.” Hanzo gave up trying to convince the cowboy of an easier alternative. So they waited. 

“Alright,” McCree finally pulled the two poker chips from the vice. The epoxy finally cured. He flipped the double thick chip with his thumb. It tumbled through the air, spinning on the invisible axis between the two colors. When the improvised coin returned to hand level, McCree caught in his right palm and slammed it on his left wrist with a clink. Red. Jesse flicked it again, repeating the process. Blue. And so it went. Blue. Blue. Red. Blue. Red. Red. Red. Blue. “Ready. So, Red or Blue?”

With a show of making a critical decision, Hanzo finally said, “Red.”

Both watched the twisting double colored chip spin in the air. McCree caught the chip and slapped it on his wrist. He remained there with the covered chip letting suspense build. When he removed the hand, the blue side innocently shone up at them.

“Tacos and Tequila it is,” McCree grinned jubilantly. Hanzo groaned. “You can have beer and pizza on your own time.” 

They returned to the rec-room and placed the double colored coin next to the television before taking over the kitchen to make tacos for movie night. There the newly elevated poker chip sat ready to make the critical decisions. No one asked where it had come from. Everyone seemed to use it. Occasionally when Hanzo found that the chip was turned to blue he would surreptitiously turn it to red. He knew the cowboy always turned it back to blue. It was a game now to change its orientation when no one else was looking. Hanzo did have to admit, this was more entertaining than a computer randomizer.


	5. Libations

**Libations**

Morning poked her head through the curtains long before Jesse was ready. Not this morning. He stretched out on the empty bed, tangled in the disarray of covers. Also not unusual. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, Jesse forced his exhausted body to move about the morning rituals. Wash, brush, dress. 

This day came around every year. And every year he dreaded it. Still on autopilot, Jesse found his way to the kitchen in the small one bedroom apartment. It was more than he had had in years. Yet even a reliable place to rest his head did not ease the ache in his heart. Three shot glasses full of whiskey sat on the countertop before Jesse realized what he had done. The glass bottle thudded next to them dully. Why was he doing this?

His metal fingers ran through his hair in frustration and he turned his back on the shot glasses. Did it even matter anymore? Jesse sighed. Finding his place on the sofa he sat with his head in his hands, staring at the rising sun. More light filled the room and Jesse wanted nothing more than to drown himself in that bottle sitting next to those three reminders. 

It was on this day so many years ago that he had lost everything that had been home. And he had not even been there to help.

The lock on the door twisted announcing the return of the other occupant, back from his early training session. Jesse did not have the energy to turn around and greet him.

“Morning,” Hanzo called as he shut the door and placed a bag next to it. It was only greeted with silence. “It’s a little early in the day to be drinking…” The frown in Hanzo’s voice was audible now. “Jesse?” the man tried again to no avail. Still as stone, Jesse continued to focus on his breath, squeezing his eyes shut against the memories.

He felt calloused hands grip his own and move them away from his face. Jesse looked into the worried eyes of his partner. Hanzo knelt before him, with Jesse’s hands in his own. Did the archer know what day it was? Seemingly satisfied that he had Jesse’s attention, Hanzo shifted to sit beside him on the sofa. One hand still held both of Jesse’s and the other draped around his back, urging him to lean in for support. Finally Jesse relented and eased his large frame against the smaller man, tucking his face into Hanzo’s shoulder.

Above him, Hanzo spoke, the words vibrating through his entire body. “They are alive, aren’t they? Wasn’t it you who suggested I honor the living through different actions?” Warm and comforting.

“Not all of them are alive… The explosion… it did more than kill my friends. It destroyed the one place that really felt like home. I ran away… I should have stayed to protect it.”

“Then you too might have died. What then?”

“Maybe that would have been better…” Jesse resigned to the sadness filling him.

“I personally don’t think it would have been better,” Hanzo said pointedly, refusing to let Jesse sink into despair. “Death is part of life and we should mourn the dead properly. When they come back… it is difficult to adjust. Is this what you do to honor their memories?”

Jesse shook his head and leaned back to face Hanzo. Not giving up the grounding touch of the man’s hands on his shoulder and gripping his own hands. “Pour a drink for the dead. But today… Today I never drink. If I did… I don’t think I’d wake up again. But they aren’t dead…. At least not those three. Plenty of my friends are… those three, they just come back to haunt me… But I poured libations for them anyway.” Jesse took one of his hands back to rub his face roughly. A sigh of frustration exploded from him. “Not the kind of tradition I want to keep… but…” he shrugged, unsure of what to do next.

“Have you been to the memorial?” Hanzo asked suddenly.

Jesse drew back in confusion. “Uh… wanted man, remember? Showing my face in public places like that don’t usually end well.”

“Then we’ll go at night. But I think you could stand to visit the location of their deaths. Of your home…” Hanzo stopped any protest by placing his fingers against Jesee’s lips. “I’m not going to force you to do anything, but if you have not been there since before the explosion… perhaps it is time for you to return. To say your farewells properly. As for the other three… you can continue to curse their names as much as you want.”

Jesse favored Hanzo with a half-hearted smile and was rewarded with one in return. Perhaps the archer was right. He too was trying to adjust to a world where those they thought dead were still alive. And the man was right. Jesse had never said a proper farewell to all those who had died. “Not today.” He relented. Hanzo nodded in understanding.

With the emotional support still present, Jesse shifted his bulk to lean against Hanzo’s shoulder again. He had never thought that pushing through today with another person would be helpful. It was not as lonely. And he was not judged. Where his old home had been destroyed, he was finding a new one. This one he would stay to protect until the end. Strong arms tighten carefully around Jesse’s shoulders. Apparently he was not the only one that refused to let go.


	6. Uncharted Territory

**Unexplored Territory**

“Uh… Hanzo?” McCree stopped when he realized they were walking towards the elegant sign proclaiming the restaurant as _Eltovi’s._ A premier establishment blending multicultural fare with the desire for artistic. “Those places don’t sell folks like me a glass of tap water.”

Hanzo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “You are fine, Jesse.” Both of them were in suits. Probably lending to McCree’s unusual hesitancy. The cowboy cut a dashing figure in the tan suit and blue vest. His unkempt brown hair had been neatly trimmed, surprising Hanzo when he first laid eyes on the dressed up gunslinger. Nor did the man wear his iconic hat. When McCree did not continue on, Hanzo turned back with a small scowl growing. Again, Hanzo paused to breathe. This was new territory for both of them. “I had the understanding that first dates are an opportunity to impress. I invited you to dinner. With romantic intentions. If I have insulted you in some way or if you are getting cold feet, tell me now so we do not have to continue this… awkwardness.”

McCree’s face betrayed such horror at the suggestion that Hanzo had an apology on his lips, ready to back out of the whole deed. Jesse beat him with the words. “Ah.. no.. Hanzo. It’s not that,” McCree’s voice softened and the tall American stepped closer to take Hanzo’s hand. “You don’t need to impress me. We don’t need fancy food and expensive suits. Hell…” Jesse leaned down and Hanzo could feel the warmth of the gunman’s breath against his ear. “You impress me everyday. Your intensity in training. Your ability to grasp details in strategy. Your perfect aim. You already caught my attention, Hanzo.”

The compact archer felt a shiver down his spine as the cowboy whispered his name. “Then what do you want…?” he asked. Their eyes were mere inches away and Hanzo could see the amazing mixture of browns and gold in the pleasant crinkles of McCree’s iris. His confidence in the night vanished though he scrambled to collect what was left.

When Jesse pulled away, Hanzo released a breath he did not know he held. And suddenly he missed the radiating warmth of the cowboy. Jesse gave a charming smile and lifted Hanzo’s hand to his lips, pressing a soft dry kiss to the back of the archer’s strong left hand. “Time.”

Confusion scrunched Hanzo’s brow. “I beg your pardon?”

“All I want is to share time with you. Anywhere. With no expectations on either part.” A vulnerable half shrug as if Jesse was confessing his deepest soul to the man who could crush it. And Hanzo realized that was very much the truth. Neither man valued much of the world. Their weapons first and foremost. A set of ideals to govern their choices. And now Hanzo understood that Jesse had placed him with everything and everyone that the cowboy held dear. Hanzo knew it to be a short list and felt honored. Now he had to let this gentle giant of a man know that the honor was reciprocated. 

With his shoulders sagging slightly in defeat, Hanzo sighed. “I simply wanted the night to be perfect.”

“It already is.” Jesse’s warm right hand tightly squeezed Hanzo’s left in reassurance. 

Hanzo glanced up at the easy smile and accepting eyes of the cowboy and felt his frustration and anxiety flee his body. The barest quirk of his lips into a smile made the gunslinger beam. “Do you still want to have dinner?”

“I’m game for anything. Even that stuffy, self-important eatery.” McCree jerked his chin at the restaurant. “But I wanted you to know that you don’t need it.”

“Very well,” Hanzo gripped Jesse’s hand for inner strength. They had come a long way since their first meeting. And they had a long path ahead of them. Hanzo studied the taller man appraisingly for a moment, just enough to make the gunslinger shift apprehensively. “Actually, I have a better idea. Would you mind waiting out here for a moment. As this is my treat, I would like to keep something a surprise.”

“Sure thing.” Jesse agreed without hesitation. He grinned reassuringly as he pulled a cigar from his breast pocket with the metal prosthesis. When Hanzo finally let go in order to make good on his promise, the cowboy lit the smoke and leaned back against a maple lining the street with an easy grace about him.

Hanzo shook his head in amazement. “I’ll be but a moment.” He vanished into the ‘self-important eatery’ as McCree had just described the high-class restaurant. _Eltovi’s_ also had a renowned bakery. When he returned bearing two carefully packaged items in a bag, he took Jesse’s right arm and escorted him along the tree and lamp lined walkway. Spicy smelling smoke trailed after them from Jesse’s cigar as they wandered towards main fountain in the square. Hanzo did not feel a need to fill the silence with words. It was companionable and comforting. Together they settled on a bench overlooking the display of water and lights. 

“Since you no longer look like a vagabond, I do not believe that establishment would have any issue serving you tap water,” Hanzo began, placing the containers next to him. “But I think we can do a little better than that.” He removed a bottle of mineral water and two plastic wineglasses to the hearty laughter of his companion. That alone made Hanzo certain he had made the right choice this time around. Jesse took the bottle and cups and set to pouring them each a glass. Hanzo took the opportunity to remove the second package. He displayed the delightful fruit tart for approval.

Jesse removed his cigar, snuffing it on the iron armrest. He glanced at the tart with fondness. Then the cowboy reached out and rested his right hand against the nape of Hanzo’s neck. Thick calloused fingers tickled the undercut around his ears. Leaning forward with a soft grin and locking eyes with the archer, Jesse was once again gazing into Hanzo’s eyes from less than a finger’s breath away. “You were right. This is a much better idea.” 

Hanzo found his hands unfortunately occupied while Jesse gently guided their heads closer. His cowboy gave him a chaste kiss that Hanzo promised would eventually become more. He could wait. The time they spent together was special. And this was only the first date after all.


	7. Disarming

**Disarming**

“What are you wearing?” Hanzo asked as he turned to face Jesse. The archer was pulling the cooler from the back of the transport when McCree joined the group. He didn’t think there was much issue with his choice of clothing. Long cargo shorts and a bright red floral print Hawaiian shirt topped with his tattered broad brim cowboy hat. It was less than Jesse ever wore. It was already making him feel a little self-conscious. 

He had been in armor and serape most of his life. They were security. Never knowing when he had to run or fight. Never certain if he was even going to have a place to sleep at night. Much less a safe place. When he rejoined Overwatch at lot of things had changed, but his layers of protection had not. Now his friends wanted to throw a beach party to celebrate their reunion. Of course McCree had agreed, but that did not mean he was feeling excited about it.

“What?” he protested. “It’s not like I’m going into the water.”

Hanzo left the cooler alone and stepped into Jesse’s personal space as if he owned it. Jesse felt his breath catch at the closeness of the strong willed archer. This had been the biggest change. He and Hanzo had found mutual respect and attraction. It was only growing with multiple nights of sharing a bottle of alcohol. 

“Why aren’t you getting into the water?” Hanzo locked their eyes together as he demanded an answer. His hands were already fiddling with the buttons to the Hawaiian shirt.

Jesse wiggled the prosthetic fingers to emphasize his point. “Do you know what saltwater does to metal?”

With a huff of annoyance, Hanzo stepped back. “A simple remedy.” Jesse was left alone and confused for three seconds as Hanzo reached into the transport’s cab for a mystery item. Next he was deftly unhooking McCree’s prosthetic left arm, ignoring Jesse’s protests. Hanzo did not explain as he violated the cowboy’s personal boundaries again. Not that McCree was really complaining. Personal space had become shared not too long ago. And Hanzo was delicate with removing the arm. Loving even. The care he took to ensure that Jesse did not have physical discomfort while removing the prosthetic made McCree smile fondly. 

The metal arm found a home on the front seat of the transport. A red silicone sleeve snapped into place over the fittings and wires that connected his nervous system to the prosthetic. “A swim cap for my arm…” Jesse honestly did not know how to feel about that. He did not even know they existed. 

“Get in the water, Jesse,” Hanzo spoke mainly to the arm he had just covered with the silicone. His fingers continued to smooth the silicone and surrounding skin with infinite care. A small expression of sadness touched the shorter man’s face, then vanished on hearing Jesse’s inarticulate voice of protest. “You did wear swim shorts, didn’t you?” Hanzo raised an eyebrow expectantly.

Jesse was not fast enough with an answer. A finger poked into the top of his cargo shorts and pulled them away just enough to peek. “Ack, Hanzo!” Jesse finally found words. He pulled Hanzo to his chest with his right arm against the strong bare back, dropping his head onto the man’s silky black hair. “Yes, I am wearing swim shorts.” The strong tattooed arm remained trapped between them. Through the beard brushing Jesse’s now exposed upper chest, the cowboy felt the archer smile.

“Good.” Hanzo tilted his head up, using both his arms to keep the massive gunslinger close to him. With a soft voice Hanzo continued, “No one is going to care about your awkward tan lines, or your less than rock hard belly.” As if to emphasize his point, Hanzo’s hands traveled under the remaining buttons of the red flowered shirt and rubbed at the soft abdomen. The archer gave him a knowing smirk. Jesse was already speechless from the pleasant sensations flooding him.

“You got me at a disadvantage here,” Jesse grinned and waved the stub of his arm capped in red. 

“You are never at a disadvantage,” Hanzo stated firmly with a smirk.

“I suppose you’re right,” Jesse grinned broadly. His thick fingers gently rubbed against the stubble on the back of Hanzo’s head, bringing their mouths together. They kissed, long and drawn out. An easy understanding between them. A deeper love than simply physical. Jesse cradled Hanzo’s head as they sank into the bliss of being together. Hanzo hugged him by the waist, unwilling to relinquish the support he had found. 

They finally broke apart when the distant calls to join them filtered through the haze of pleasure. Hanzo pulled away first, kissing Jesse’s cheek in promise. As the compact muscular man placed the metal prosthetic in a bag to keep water and sand out he mused, “I should probably joke about putting a severed arm on ice. Think there is room in the cooler?”

Jesse laughed brightly. “Depends on what you put in the cooler to start with. Though putting it on ice isn’t a bad idea at all. Not if you don’t want me to burn you when we replace it.”

“Then I’ll have to worry about freezing fingers on sunburn,” Hanzo chuckled but still opened the cooler to carefully lay the prosthetic amid the cans and ice. Both knew there was no way they would leave the arm behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. Hope you enjoyed my little experiments. 
> 
> And Thank you McHanzo Week! Because of you I now have a prospective new story to write. Once _"Hello, Joel"_ is closer to completion and I have enough snippets pulled together, I'll start writing an expansion to _Criminal Alliance_. Might need a new title for it... 
> 
> Anyway, thank you for your support.


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